


I'll Go Anywhere You Want

by DreamersEclipse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, M/M, skysolo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5874421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamersEclipse/pseuds/DreamersEclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought I told everyone this room is off limits.”</p><p>Brown eyes flash in recognition as he spins on his heels to meet the owner of the familiar, gruff voice. “Sorry, Han. I just wanted to get away from the crowds for a minute.”</p><p>The other man’s eyebrows remain furrowed as he regards him, “’S not very smart to go to parties if you aren’t fond of crowds.” Luke ducks his head, feeling slightly admonished. He looks up at Han through the thick lashes on his eyes. “Leia come with you?”</p><p>He shook his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Go Anywhere You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betad. All mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy!

“Bet you’re pretty excited huh?” Wedge says to him without taking his eyes off the road. His smile is a bright contrast to the night that encompasses them. The sound of the radio is low, a background noise to his friend’s indulgent question. 

Luke wasn’t paying much attention to either though. The window pane is a cool pillow that seems to morph the check that’s pressed against it. In some crazy bends of reality and consciousness he can almost believe that the fingers he idly presses into the glass are molding the substance. As though his body’s warmth could challenge the very properties of something meant to crack and shatter rather than bend. 

“Hm?” He questions idly, thinking he should try to listen this time around.

Biggs grabs his shoulder from the backseat, giving it a friendly squeeze. Luke turns to see an open smile on his face that somehow always puts him at ease. His nerves unwind just the slightest as the fond voice spills over him. “It’s alright to be nervous. You’re going to do fine, no matter what.”

“Nervous? Luke, of all people?” Wedge gives an amused snort. “Obviously you haven’t seen him in the pilot’s seat.” 

Luke smiles at the both of them and turns away from the window to settle more properly in the passenger seat. Looking at the passing street rolling under the tires made him kind of sick anyway. Being in cars made him feel like he was wearing clothes that didn’t fit him in the most uncomfortable way.

“Being inside a plane is one thing.” He shook his head. “Guess I am a little nervous.”

Wedge reaches over, his hand not quite knowing what it’s doing as it attempts to both ruffle his hair and push his head. Luke swats him away with an affectionate grin breaking out on his face. “That’s why we’re going out tonight!”

Biggs snorts in the backseat. His voice is laced with playful sarcasm. “Right, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you passed your simulation test.”

The other man laughed lightly, his fingers curling an excited squeeze on the steering wheel. “Hell yeah it has a lot do with that too. I thought for sure I was going to upchuck; I was so nervous.”

“What was it like?” Luke asks excitedly.

“Anti-climactic.” His friend in the back says easily.

Wedge hums thoughtfully, “A little nerve wrecking, but as long as you keep your wits about you it’s actually alright.” 

“I wish I could just fly a real plane for the exam. I don’t like the artificial feeling, it’s different.”

He feels the phantom feeling of controls in his hands, a helmet on his head and a lightness like helium in his stomach. His eyes squeeze shut instinctively to hold on to the memory of ease of existence, of nirvana. When they open again, his friends are getting out of the car, still chattering happily about the future and its endless potential. Endless isn’t always a good thing, he thinks idly. Endlessness is more likely to swallow you up then see you along your way.

The wind is gentle but carries a nipping cold like the eerie goodbye kiss of winter. He doesn’t shiver but it’s a close thing. His yellow jacket buffets most of the light chill for him. Cars line up the packed street. One house stands out like a lighthouse on a dark sea, music and people falling from the seams. Testing the limitations of drywall and plywood with the locomotion of young bodies and their careless gambol, both on the dancefloor and in intimate contact.

Uneasiness climbs up him like a puckish demon, breathing uncomfortably hot and roughly down his neck. Wedge and Biggs get to the door before they realize he’s stopped near the battered mailbox at the edge of the street. They give him encouraging waves and walk right in. He stays to stare at the one story house, idly asking himself if he’s willing to walk ten miles home or spend the evening drinking and hiding. He also wonders which would make it easier to look his sister in the eyes. 

A brief huff like an inadequate sigh escapes him, taking a small piece of his soul with it. He ducks his head and heads inside, allowing the music to drown out his arising anxieties. It’s crowded enough that the bodies that press against him as he brushes by, push his feelings back into his being so that they can’t disturb anyone else. 

He breaks through into a small clearing in the living room, eyes anxiously searching out two specific familiar faces and hoping beyond hope he doesn’t see a certain third familiar face. In the doorway to the kitchen he sees Wedge, already flirting with a girl he barely recognizes from school. If he leans to the side, he can see Biggs also in the kitchen talking to some friends. He definitely recognizes them and he decides to test the indifferent anonymity of the company around him rather than meeting up with his friends; hopefully at least until they seek him out again. 

Luke finds himself paying more attention to the character of the house rather than that of the partygoers. He thinks back to the few times he’s ever gotten a look inside, sparse occasions full of vague memories. Now the house is a different place, but he still recognizes the coffee table under its mountain of red cups, spilled nuts and crumpled napkins. 

He goes around, pushing past people to look at the pictures on the walls. There’s only so many; the bare spaces seem to echo with the residual loss of whatever memories were taken down with the photos. Remaining are a few polaroid prints of a smiling boy in the arms of an adoring woman. The boy smiles in the pictures where he’s older but the man standing next to him has a hand on his shoulder and it all seems like a lie. 

With a slight smile he traces the younger boy in the happier picture. He can close his eyes and imagine that same smile bringing vibrant colors into a world of black and white. Again, he almost feels as though, through bending physics and space, he can press through the glass and reach into the warmth of a lost summer day. Reluctantly, he pulls away his hand and moves on to the main corridor. 

All of the doors are closed. There’s a line of people leaned up against one wall. Most of them don’t look at him as he walks by. Even beyond the blare of rock and pop he can hear a couple beyond one door going at it. He barely recalls that that specific room is a closet as he nervously hurries past. 

The final door at the end of the hall is a sentinel, keeping its perimeter bare of loiters with the inanimate glare of wood. He turns to the other door along the right wall and finds it cracked. There is darkness within the room that beckons him away from the light of the hallway and its many occupants. With only a little hesitation he grabs the knob and pushes through. 

A blind groping of the wall leads him to flipping on the light. He walks in, carried on curiosity and some deeper set and harder to describe feelings. Luke couldn’t be sure what he expected of the room though. There’s car posters plastered all over the walls, along with some beautiful women in immodest outfits. A crowded desk in the corner houses a battered laptop with a personality of stickers on it and the bed is an unmade mess of grey sheets and a black comforter. It smells like a strong spice with a hint of car oil and something else earthy. 

He wants to find an incense or candle that smells just like this, he thinks. Something that he could own and take with him. Luke is startled out of that fantasy though when the door open and an annoyed voice snaps out at him, “I thought I told everyone this room is off limits.”

Brown eyes flash in recognition as he spins on his heels to meet the owner of the familiar, gruff voice. “Sorry, Han. I just wanted to get away from the crowds for a minute.”

The other man’s eyebrows remained furrowed as he regarded him, “’S not very smart to go to parties if you aren’t fond of crowds.” Luke ducks his head, feeling slightly admonished. He looks up at Han through the thick lashes on his eyes. “Leia come with you?”

He shook his head. 

Han sighed, running a hand through his mop of brown hair. Luke tried not to be as captivated as he was by the action. “Well there’s that then.” Was the huffy response as he closed the door before heading over to the desk and digging out a bottle of whiskey. He poured some into a shot glass, downed it, then refilled it and handed it to Luke.

There was nonexistent objection as he took it and downed the burning drink. His nerves definitely wouldn’t hold up around Han like this without some aid or another. Plus, he got an approving look that sent warmth following the same heat that went into his stomach. 

Han pulled the desk chair out and offered it to Luke while he himself just leaned against the desk, drinking the bottle of whiskey away at a leisurely pace, occasionally offering him some more. “So, what’s the occasion? This isn’t normally your scene.”

“Some friends brought me. I didn’t know the party they wanted to go to was at your house though.” Otherwise I might not have come. The thought hung thickly at the edge of his tongue. He drowned it with another shot, feeling his mind blur around the edges. 

He was fixed with a distasteful frown. “Oh, knew I recognized that guy’s face. Antilles, right?”

An affirmative nod with the added afterthought of, “And Biggs.”

“Why are you in here instead of being out there with your friends then?” There was a sour note to his tone but Luke couldn’t be bothered to take it personally.

He shrugged and glanced away. Silence dragged on for a couple minutes. Muffled music still streamed into the room, along with ambiguous voices. 

Han pushed away from the desk, setting the half empty bottle down. He stretched his arms over his head, t-shirt lifting up to reveal the lean muscles in his back. Luke might’ve blushed but he was buzzed and was more concerned with how his sober self could seriously look away from such a sight because of something as stupid as embarrassment and properness. 

It was over in a flash however as brown eyes peered down at him, a lazy smirk on his face. “Why don’t you get comfortable, kid? It’s too stuffy in here to be wearing that jacket of yours.” He mindlessly began to strip it off at the words, struggling slightly with one of the sleeves as Han’s voice filled up his already heated body with more and more warmth. “I’m droppin’ through the kitchen real quick, want a bear?”

“Sure.” He nodded his head as he finally got his jacket off. Not sure what to do with the material in his hands he simply hung it on the back of the desk chair and curiously inspected the room some more while he waited. 

Not two minutes later though he clearly heard yelling. The music fell out of existence and the screaming was that much more prominent for it. A stream of curses and demands was pouring through just as Han rushed back into the room. His face was slightly pale and his hands empty. Before Luke could ask what was happening his hand was in Solo’s and he was being pulled out of the open window in the bedroom into the inviting night.

With a heart suddenly pounding, he couldn’t do anything but be pulled to the driveway and shoved into the passenger of Han’s beat-up white truck. The engine sputtered as it came to life, a rattling sound accompanying its awakening from hibernation. A shadow of a man came running out of the front door. He was storming over like a vengeful spirit and Luke felt like his heart was gonna catch in his throat. 

Han just smirked, his eyes wild as he threw the car into reverse, speeding it expertly backwards across the grass to curve around the vehicle behind it; and it was still in reverse that he avoided hitting any of the other closely parked cars as he made it on to the street. In a flourish, he threw the car into second and zoomed forward just as the angry man’s feet hit the curb. Obscenities dying on a chilly wind fell behind them as they drove away.

There was an excited whoop of exclamation from the man beside him, a heavy fist that pounded against the old leather steering wheel. “Take that, you old geezer!” He shouted. 

“What the heck happened back there?” Luke asked, voice flushed with adrenaline and excitement still.

Han glanced at him as though just then remembering having dragged the young blonde along with him. His smile died out like a snuffed flame but he tried to use the wisps of smoke to hold the corner of his lips up. “Ah, don’t worry about it, Luke. The old man wasn’t supposed to be home till Monday. Sorry for dragging you along like that, wasn’t really thinking.”

“I don’t mind. That was much more fun than the party anyway.” The smile he got in return for his words was worth more the treasure of a thousand worlds and he couldn’t help but return it. A big hand affectionately ruffles his hair. It felt different from when Wedge did it. He couldn’t be sure if that was all in his head though as he desperately clung to the feeling of Han’s hand in his hair- so much so that he might’ve forced time to slow down and linger. 

“Where are we going now?” He asked afterwards, eyes trained to the profile of the man beside him.

“We?” Han asked in surprise. “What, you don’t want me to take you home?”

Luke blinked. He honestly hadn’t considered that. “Oh.” His head turned away from the distinguished profile to look out the window. 

“Hey kid, I’m not real keen on going to your house anyway so if you say you don’t wanna go then we aren’t gonna go. It’d be a relief, to be honest.”

A relief. His stomach twisted. The scenery was moving too slow past the truck, the endless asphalt still made him feel sick and his fuzzy mind told him not to be such a baby. “It’d be a relief for me too…to be honest.” He replied softly after a couple of moments.

Han didn’t say anything in return. He simply put the car into third gear and made the scenery and black road pass like a blur behind them. A dull blending of color with a spattering of yellow light contrasting against the abyss. If he closed his eyes he could trick himself into believing he was flying. 

 

 

They drove for a long time. He wanted to ask where they were going but at the same time he didn’t care. Sometime between the ebb of urban hood and opening expanse of empty highways, there was a gas station that they drove up to. A pale siren that called out to the lonely souls of the road.

“Mind putting a ten down for me in the store?” Han asked, holding out some crumpled bills to him.

“Sure.” He took the money and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Go on ‘n get yourself somethin’, I’ll be right in.”

Luke hopped out. His feet hit solid ground and it made him feel like reality sharpened acutely around him. Mentally shaking his head, he headed inside. The older woman inside of the plexiglass box took the money with a grunt and gave him back the change. He gave her a smile in return that didn’t faze her in the slightest. 

Unconcerned, he went walking around the store, gazing idly at the rows of candies, chips and pre-packaged baked goods. His lean fingers traced along plastic packaging and price stickers. He was kneeling down, trying to decide on twizzlers or chocolate when something hit his back. His head snapped up and to the side where Han had ducked away to the next isle.

A snort escaped him as he looked down at the small bag of pretzels. He rolled his eyes and picked it up. Slyly making his way around the opposite side of the aisle, he leaned out slightly to find his target eyeing the beef jerky. Luke reeled his arm back and gave the bag a nice hard toss, the object making a precise impact against the taller man’s head before falling to the ground and breaking open. 

Han’s hand flew up to the back of his head and he turned around sharply to find Luke with a stupid grin on his face. “Why you-“ He took a step to chase after him -the young blonde cursing as he ducked back to his own aisle- when a heavy boot crushed the bag of pretzels. The woman up front scolded him and told him he had to pay for it. 

While the brunette was normally very touchy about money, he actually wasn’t that bothered by having to waste money on ruined snacks. He got Luke back by giving him a friendly noogie while they both laughed it off.

They met again back at the front checkout. A six pack of beer, some jerky and crushed pretzels awaited the red laser sentencing when Luke put down his packet of red twizzlers and small cherry slushy. Han picked up the candy with a raised eyebrow and that endearing as all heaven smirk of his. 

“A man after my own heart, huh?”

Luke blushed and crossed his arms over his chest, half pretending to be annoyed. “Well, I guess since you’re treating me, I’ll be kind enough to share.”

“That so?” He put it down so the woman could scan it. “How gracious of you.” 

The road was opening up to them before he knew it again and this time they chatted away. Words flowed from their mouths, anecdotes and poorly delivered but well received jokes blending with the low music streaming from the stereo. Old notes composed for their interactions alone, it seemed. 

A hand ruffled his hair and squeezed his shoulder, causing something in his chest to squeeze and heart to swell. He felt heightened, aware of every pleased grin, every burst of laughter that served to fill him up and every glance those shadowed brown eyes would direct at him. 

The road became bumpy and unsettled underneath them. With only the moon and dying gold headlights lighting up the area before them, they could see a beach of fine sand and an ocean disappearing into the horizon. Han stopped the truck, threw it in reverse and drove backwards to park with the trunk facing towards the open body of water. The radio was killed with the engine and the sound of waves washed over them. 

Without a word, Han got out, taking the snacks with him. Luke followed suit, curiously watching as the other man hopped up into the bed of the truck, after dropping the hatch. He set his stuff aside and then dug into an old chest that was strapped to the forefront of the truck. There was a large, thick blanket made or red and black plaid material he brought out only to lay it down. It was a well-used piece, much like everything in the truck- speaking of ages of care and comradery. 

“Waiting for an invitation?” Han asked him, sitting down on the impromptu bed. 

Bewildered but charmed, Luke hopped in to join him and sat crossed legged next to him. He messed with the half empty bag of twizzlers in his hand and waited for something. Maybe an invitation wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

A beer was being held out to him and he glanced over to see Han looking at him. The moon gleamed against his medium brown hair and caught sharply on the contours of his handsome face. He swallowed thickly and took the offering with a muttered thanks, quickly turning his gaze away. 

Luke allowed his attention to be stolen by the ocean. He never got to see it much, but when he did he never ceased to be swept away by the intimidating beauty of it. Waves brushed like a lover’s caress along the shore, wind like a cold sigh sliding off of it. Above it the quarter moon indifferently looked down upon its own distorted reflection.

His memory drudged up images from his past like wet sand in his hands, hot summer days where his feet burned and his sister wore a smile that could rival the sun. A woman whose beauty would have shamed the ancient goddesses of Greek and Rome would laugh a sound like liquid ambrosia, and her twinkling eyes offered the two of them endless love.

He twisted himself almost painfully sharply away from that place and took a big gulp of the cheap alcohol. Han gave him a look but didn’t say anything. 

Time lagged, lulled by the waves and soothed by the stars. Luke drew his knees to his chest and attempted to suppress the shiver that wracked through him, hugging his legs as he hunched over to keep his body heat to himself. 

Han swore, “Ah, kid, I can’t believe we left your jacket back at the old man’s place. Here,” Some rustling and a jacket fell over his shoulders. Warmth spilled from every crack of worn leather and seeped into his skin. 

“Are you sure? What if you get cold?” He objected but he still pulled the coat on, mystified by how the long sleeves fell well past his hands. 

The other man shrugged, “I run a little warm anyway. ‘Sides, feels nice out tonight.”

Luke nodded and hugged his legs once more, resting his chin on his knees. The smell of spice was even stronger on the coat than it was back in the room. He wished that he could keep it, take it with him everywhere he went. Maybe it’d help to fill in that little empty spot inside of him…or maybe it’d make it bigger. 

“Han…can I ask you something?”

“I feel like I’m going to regret this, but sure kid, go ahead.”

The wind rustled past them. It felt oddly encouraging. He turned his head against his legs to look over at the other man, who was staring idly at the bottle in his hand. “You and Leia have been mad at each other longer than usual.”

“That’s not a question.” Han sighed harshly. “But to answer, we’re not mad at each other.”

Luke lifted his head at that, giving him a quizzical look. “What then?” 

Leia would snap at him every time he brought it up or even mentioned Han’s name. She’d fume and throw barbs and afterwards she would just like tired. It hurt to see her like that.

“Look, junior, it’s complicated, alright? Sometimes people don’t connect quite the way they want to and that makes them upset.”

It wasn’t complicated…it just didn’t make sense. “What do you mean?”

Another harsh sigh was his immediate answer. A shrewd look delivered under heavy brown eyebrows was directed at him, but he just stared back patiently. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?” Luke tilted his head which for some reason made Han roll his eyes and look away.

He laid himself out on the blanket, one arm going behind his head as a surrogate pillow while the other rested on his stomach. A soft breath escaped his lungs and he shifted to get comfortable for a moment. Then his eyes glued themselves to the sky. 

“We just want different things, from ourselves and each other. There’s no getting’ around something like that. You can’t meet in the middle when you’re both on different paths to begin with. Ya get what I mean?”

Luke felt his words like a familiar set of clothes that he wasn’t fond of wearing. A shadow in the shape of a man stood at the back of his mind, making him uneasy. It was waiting for him. He nodded mutely in reply, wishing for the smell of spice and the sound of waves to drown his thoughts.

“Do you love Leia?” He asked suddenly, stunning himself a little by the unfiltered spill of his tongue.

“It’s hard not to.” Han answered without hesitation. 

The young man tucked his chin down into his knees once more and in a soft voice he murmured, “Good.”

Apparently he was heard though. A bitter ruefulness settled over the other man’s tone like sweet self-deprecation, “Still…has a lot of spirit. But you think her and a guy like me…?”

“No.” He said softly but vehemently. 

Love wasn’t constant bickering and animosity. It wasn’t the tears his sister would hide or the weeks at a time that Han would disappear without a word. It was more than the two of them trying to fit themselves into the uncomfortable niches of each other’s lives where they were least allowed to be themselves. He looked down at Han and he knew with all his heart and soul that that was most certainly not love.

The brown haired man laughed, same lazy smile stretched out on his face. “Leia knows that too. Kid’s got a big heart though. She tries to fill it with too many things, even the stuff that doesn’t fit.”

He didn’t know how to reply to that. The night didn’t demand a continuation of conversation though so he simply laid himself out next to the man beside him and soaked in the sight of the stars. They were fairly clear this far out of town. He couldn’t help the idle thought that the darkness was older than the very stars it surrounded. Billions of years just to see the spark of what was, much like trying to read life from archaic cave paintings. It’ll never exist like that again but it’s nice to look at and imagine the history behind it.

“I need to get out of here.” Han said after a long time. His voice challenged the waves in its brush of softness against his eardrums. The words didn’t make much sense but he was pulled in by them nonetheless. “There isn’t anything in this town for me.”

The chill settled into him, past the warmth of the jacket. He glanced up but could only see a tense jaw and crooked nose. “Where will you go?”

“Anywhere I want.”

“You can’t go, Han.” The words fell through his filter once more. This time he wasn’t surprised or embarrassed. 

Han leaned up on his side, resting his weight on his arm as he looked down at Luke with a challenging glint in his eyes. “And why not?”

“Because there are people here who need you.”

“What people? Leia is fully capable of takin’ care of herself, you know. ‘N Chewie already went home a couple weeks ago. Hell if I’ll ever see that fur face again. Staying in this town is like suicide, gonna steal all the life right out of me, and I don’t want ta let that happen!”

Something softened in his expression as he took a deep breath. His gaze flicked away for a moment but was steady when locked back with his own. He reached out with his free hand and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me, Luke? You’re not so bad on the road and there’s better things out there than what you got goin’ back in town.”

Luke’s breath emptied from his lungs like a space vacuum chamber. “Come on.” He said, rising up on to his elbows. “You know I got my Air Force test tomorrow. I can’t just throw that away.”

“Why? Because it’s what your old man wants?” The words were a sock to his gut and slap across his face. He opened his mouth to retaliate or rebut but Han carried on. “Or maybe it is what you want. Constantly being told where to fly and what ‘evil’ city to shoot torpedoes at. Always some duty there to turn something you love into nothing but another obligation.”

Tears burned in the back of his eyes, a cocktail of anger and hurt bubbling within him. He ducked his head and swung an arm out to punch Han in the chest, yelling, “Stop it!” His wrist was caught easily and Luke shook with emotion. 

“Sorry, Luke,” and there was a true note of apology there, “just calling it like I see it.”

They were stuck in that moment for too long. All of the careful blocks of calm he set up to house in his true emotions were knocked down by a couple flimsy words and a hand on his wrist. He went to sag away from Han but his face was caught by a calloused hand and gently directed to look up at those deep set brown eyes.

A thumb traced a lone tear that slipped down his cheek. Han’s gaze searched his face as though trying to commit it all to memory. Then he was staring at nothing but his lips and Luke was enraptured by the look on his face. With the slow fluidness of a current, their lips came together. There wasn’t any fireworks or sudden bursts of un-tamable passion. But the heaviness lifted enough that it felt like he could finally breathe and there was the feeling of being home in Han’s arms. An invitation.

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Star Wars and Han/Luke fic. I utterly adore this pairing and am just now hopping into this wonderful fandom. This work was created for a challenge. Critiques and comments and senseless fangirling all welcome. Thanks for reading.
> 
> I am posting this just as I finish typing because I'm an overeager assbutt. I'll come back to edit in the next couple of days.
> 
> Also, this story is largely inspired by the song 'Mercury' by Sleeping at Last. That band was made for this ship.


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